Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sierra Leone and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eddi Front to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Simply Red,
The Litter,
Chrome,
The Durutti Column,
The Cowsills,
Susan Cadogan,
Guru Guru,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sex Pistols,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Happenings,
Glambeats Corp.,
Intrusion,
Swans,
The Moody Blues,
The Names,
Panda Bear,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roger Hodgson,
The Smoke,
Faust,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Gang Dance,
Niagra,
Camberwell Now,
Groovy Waters,
The Residents,
Gong,
The Gladiators,
Letta Mbulu,
Sam Rivers,
The Neon Judgement,
Glenn Branca,
Circle Jerks,
X-Ray Spex,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry's Kids,
Ken Boothe,
The Victims,
Eric Dolphy,
B.T. Express,
Urselle,
The Zeros,
Janne Schatter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gories,
Accadde A,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crooked Eye,
The Martian,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kenny Larkin,
Yusef Lateef,
Rosa Yemen,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kas Product,
Newcleus,
Depeche Mode,
Angry Samoans,
Isaac Hayes,
UT,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.